


the person you've become

by iceberry



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Fluff, M/M, Minor Violence, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceberry/pseuds/iceberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's not always easy to let your past go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the person you've become

 It feels _good,_ is the first thing he thinks as he pulls his fist back. Not in an arousing way, but in a warm, fulfilling way that makes Aphrodi feel whole. It’s more than kicking someone with a ball could ever give him, he thinks, bringing his hand down again. A smile grows across his face as he hits the smaller boy right square in the jaw, blood from his previous blow to the brunet’s nose flying from his knuckles to his uniform; the red blood standing out from the white fabric. Another punch comes immediately after, and blood drips from the corner of the boy’s mouth onto the uniform he’s wearing. As the figure slumps down against a dark wall (the only distinguishable feature in the dark room), a small laugh comes from Aphrodi’s mouth. It elicits no reaction from the boy in front of him, not even a defeated look of disgust. Part of him thinks there’s something off about the whole situation – how did he get here? He has no recollection of previous events – but the majority of his actions are primal now, some kind of twisted bloodlust that’s suddenly boiled up.

Why? Perhaps his victim did something to insult him. Maybe it’s just pent up rage that’s been looking for an outlet for far too long. It could even be that he was just doing it for the simple motivation that it feels nice and _real_.

Of course, that doesn’t matter to Aphrodi. He’s caught up in that wild, euphoric rage that he once felt a long time ago and then hoped to never feel again. And yet, the reminder of those days pushes him forward for a second, but a weak cry of pain as he drives his foot into the boy’s side makes him slow down for a brief moment. A rational thought manages to slip its way into the interlude, and something makes Aphrodi take a look around him. The wild look in his red eyes softens, though doesn’t go away. He unclenches his bloodied fist, and taking a shaky breath as he tries to calm himself, looks directly into the bruised and broken face of the one and only Endou Mamoru.

The blond feels his breath catch in his throat for some inconceivable reason, and things become both clearer and more confusing, a little blurred around the edges. Aphrodi feels like he’s going to vomit a bit, from pure disgust at himself (though the smell of blood around him isn’t helping). He _enjoyed_ what he’d just been doing, and that feeling of warmth is still there, much to his repulsion.  He looks down at his hands and wills himself to feel ill at the sight of the blood, tries to make himself sick at the sound of Endou’s ragged breathing, but instead feels the wild heat rush back, and the clarity that was granted by the recognition of his victim begins to ebb away.

Aphrodi feels himself slipping again and he tries to hold on, but the way Endou’s skin gave way under his blows just felt so _good_. And then he’s back to where he was before, the nausea gone as quickly as it came, and he pulls back to lay another blow on Endou’s cheek.

His fist never quite makes it there, a strong grasp on his wrist stopping it inches away. And for a split second, Aphrodi has an irrational feeling that he’s dying. The idea that your life flashes before your eyes right before you die always seemed like a useless platitude to him, but he can come up with no other explanation for what he’s experiencing. In that moment – or maybe it’s an hour? Time seems to fall apart – it becomes real.

Images move through his mind one after another, moving so fast they’re a blur, yet eerily distinct. The Football Frontier finals, all the rage he’d felt then. A deep breath, walking into the middle of the diamond dust match; playing Chaos and then it melts into a steady stream of pain pain _pain_ ; the clean sterility of the hospital and Endou’s visit. Endou’s fingers entwined with his own; Endou’s lips against his own and an inexplicable feeling of breathless euphoria. Endou smiling at him, lying next to him in bed, gently running his fingers through his hair.

The brunet’s grip on Aphrodi’s wrist slackens – he never quite stopped putting his weight into the blow – and his hand moves again.

And as it connects with Endou’s face with a sickening crunch, Aphrodi wakes up.

It takes the blond more than a few seconds to gather his bearings. It’s been a long time since he’s woken up this disoriented and shaken. Quite literally – he can’t quite steady his hand properly as he brushes hair out of his face to check the clock. Nearly four in the morning. He knows it’s too late for this, and he should just lay back down and forget about it, but he can’t quite calm himself. Each breath he takes is erratic, and even after a few seconds of collecting himself, there’s still a cold sweat on the back of his neck. The room is dimly lit, and the shadows that are cast around him look far less familiar than usual, and much more menacing. Aphrodi looks around the room, trying to make out the furniture – is that the dresser? The lamp? It’s a silly game, but offers him a distraction. Anything to avoid looking down and to his right. He lets his gaze hover on the slightly askew clock again, but then finally, takes a deep breath and turns and looks down.

Endou lies next to him, deep in sleep and completely oblivious – as well as entirely unharmed. All the same, Aphrodi reaches out to softly trace the contours of his face, feeling pathetically guilty; and yet at the same time, his relief when he feels a total lack of injuries and blood on his boyfriend’s face is almost _tangible_. He feels stupid for worrying so much but…there was something about that dream that he just can’t shake off as easy as that, even for someone as adaptable as he is.

Although seeing Endou makes Aphrodi feel better on a certain level, he’s still incredibly shaken up, much more than he would (or would care to) admit. Careful not to make any big movements or loud noises, he slides the covers off his legs (though they’re already mostly off the bed, Aphrodi figures he must have kicked them off during his dream) and climbs out of bed. He pauses for a moment before opening and walking out the door to glance at Endou again. He’s sprawled out across at _least_ three fourths of the bed, breathing slow and steady. The regularity makes Aphrodi relax a bit more, though it does absolutely nothing to assuage his guilt – if anything, it makes him feel a bit worse.

With the same amount of care he took in getting out of bed, the midfielder shuts the door slowly, without making a single sound. Immediately his hand reaches out to feel along the wall until he hits the light switch. Normally the darkness doesn’t scare him much, especially in the comfort of his own home, but tonight is different. His first thought goes directly to scaring away the shadows, illuminating the hall so he doesn’t have to face and confront them. Not tonight.

When he’s certain that not _too_ much light is leaking into the bedroom – he’d rather deal with the dark than wake up Endou by mistake – he walks to the bathroom and turns on the light in there as well. Aphrodi stares into the mirror, and the person staring back is both familiar and a complete stranger to him somehow. His hair is a mess, and he looks tired – both of those should be givens considering the time of day. But beneath that there’s a shaken look in his red eyes, and though he tries to convince himself it’s just the lighting, he looks paler than usual, drawn out in a way. He stares for a moment, wistfully thinking that perhaps if he waits long enough he’ll be able to will away that scared, guilty look. _It doesn’t suit me_ , he thinks, and the irony behind that is enough to make him smile.

For a moment he considers just leaving things as they are and going back to sleep, but the dream comes back to him (not that it ever really left) and he decides that going back to sleep isn’t an option for that night. A splash of cold water on his face is enough to wake him up; it’s also enough to make his hair uncomfortably damp. Oddly enough, it seems to help, if only by solidifying a bit more that he is most certainly not still asleep, the water is too cold to not be real. He takes a final glance in the mirror, then shuts the light off again.

When he walks back into the bedroom, he nearly has a heart attack when he hears Endou’s voice (seemingly out of the blue, as his back is turned while he closes the door).

“Why are you up?” Endou’s voice is sleepy but also tinged with concern. As he turns around, Aphrodi briefly considers lying to him, but the amount of guilt he’s harboring about the dream combined with the look Endou’s giving him pushes away that resolve. It doesn’t change the fact, however, that the midfielder is at a loss for what to say – he can’t let go of the fact that the dream only ended a nightmare, or only really became one when he woke up. Although he’d like to forget about it, there’s no denying that the beginning of the dream gave him some kind of messed up pleasure, and it leaves a bad taste in the back of his mouth.

“Aphrodi? Are you okay?” Endou is more alert now – clearly something in Aphrodi’s behavior shook him up a little, and the blond tries to act as natural and relaxed as possible as he walks across the room. By the time he’s back in bed, Endou has pulled himself into a sitting position, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp and rubbing his eyes. Aphrodi doesn’t look at him right away, even as he can feel the brunet focusing on him. He still doesn’t know what to say, and he suspects he won’t know the right way to say how he feels anytime soon, if ever. And although it’s a bit of a coward’s way out, Aphrodi decides to stall. There’s no way he’ll be able to lie to Endou (he doesn’t like to lie in general, and he _never_ lies to Endou – how could he, when he was the one who showed Aphrodi how to be truthful in the first place?). The goalie would see right through him.

A moment passes, and he doesn’t say anything, but leans over to grab the covers from where they’re hanging off the bed and pulls them over his legs. He’s barely back under the covers before Endou has moved over to swing an arm around his back, laying his head gently on Aphrodi’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything more, but doesn’t move from that position either. It’s obvious that Endou can tell that Aphrodi doesn’t want to talk about it or know what to say, and he wishes he could disguise that better…but he also knows that there’s no way Endou’s going to go back to sleep till he’s convinced that Aphrodi’s alright, and he’s grateful for that. The silence isn’t haunting like when he’d woken up after the dream – it’s comforting this time, and he leans into Endou’s touch.

When it comes to things like this, Aphrodi wishes he could pull the confidence that he has on the field into the room. He’s good at soccer, and he has a good fashion sense, and he’s a decent cook – but it’s harder for him to feel quite as self-assured when it comes to everything else. He knows he’s done too much bad, even if it’s years in the past, to have _that_ much confidence in himself. But the fear he harbors about reminding Endou of how he once treated him makes him feel worse. Endou loves him, and tells him every day (if not in words, than through actions), and even if he doesn’t feel very worthy of that love in times like these, he knows he should have more faith in Endou.

“It was a nightmare,” Aphrodi said quietly, realizing how weighted those words are. He’s no stranger to nightmares, and Endou is well aware. The source of most of those is (and has been for a very long time), the aftereffects of the ‘Aqua of the Gods’. Years later, they still troubled him sometimes, though more and more sporadically as of late. (Whether it’s because time has finally worn down the effects or because he just feels so much safer when sleeping with Endou, Aphrodi doesn’t think he’ll be able to guess.) Though the frequency has been slackening, it’s still logical for Endou to assume that this dream is the same. It’s not. (Those dreams only hurt, and this one…was different.)

“Was it one of the same?” he asks softly, shifting the arm behind Aphrodi to run his fingers through the midfielder’s (slightly knotted) hair.

“No,” Aphrodi responds, and is unsure of what else to say, so he lapses into silence again. He closes his eyes, and the image of Endou hurt – by _his own_ hands – seems to be seared into his eyelids. The trip down to the bathroom had helped to wake him up, but it hadn’t done much to quell his emotions in the long run. He’s struck with an urge identical to when he first woke up to make sure that it was just a dream, and nothing else.

Gently he prods Endou off his shoulder, the confusion on the brunet’s face making Aphrodi smile a bit despite it all. Once again, he gently drags his hand along Endou’s cheek, prompting another confused look.

“You did that before, too, didn’t you?” Endou asks with a bit of a tease in his voice, but it quickly turns serious – an odd tone to be hearing from him. “It’s not all that like you.”

Aphrodi feels himself flush a little bit – he hadn’t meant to wake Endou up when he did that, quite the opposite of that. “I thought you were sound asleep,” he says. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s fine,” Endou says, and looks at him odd for a second before resuming his position leaning against Aphrodi’s shoulder. “What was the dream about?”

Aphrodi freezes up, and embarrassingly enough, feels as though he’s going to cry. It’s just a dream, he realized that as soon as he woke up. The issue with this dream in particular is that it’s too close to the reality of a few years past. He knows Endou’s forgiven him – he was forgiven _years_ ago – but there’s always that irrational albeit lingering worry that reminding Endou of those days will change everything. There’s an unbearable feeling of guilt weighing him down, and humiliation that he’s let something as inconsequential as a dream get him into this state.

“ _Terumi_ ,” Endou calls gently, and the blond could almost swear that it feels like he’s been woken up _again_. “Hey, it’s just a dream.”

Aphrodi must have spaced out while trying not to lose control of his emotions, and as everything comes back into focus, he finds Endou looking right into his eyes. The goalkeeper is clearly worried – even if Aphrodi wasn’t looking right at him, his first name is rarely used between them, even in private. It carries a lot of weight as well, but when Endou says it, it has an odd ability of bringing him back from whatever’s dragging him down. This time especially it has the intended effect. The blond feels calmer than before, like it shocked him into a sobriety of sorts.

“I was in a room,” he starts slowly, trying to remind himself of the details as he takes a shaky breath. “I was hurting someone.” It would be nice if he could leave it there, but most of his nightmares involve that – and it’s not the whole truth. “You.” He keeps his eyes on Endou, silently bracing himself for a look of disgust that never comes. Instead, he reaches over and takes Aphrodi’s hand in his own, folding their fingers together gently.

“And I enjoyed it. Even…even briefly after I realized it was you, I tried to hit you again. Then I woke up.” Once again, he scrutinizes Endou’s expression, but it doesn’t change from the sleepy worriedness that’s been there since Aphrodi woke him up. It…wasn’t what Aphrodi expected, to say the least. Although his surprise isn’t unpleasant (more relieved than anything), he still elects to look away – he feels guilty enough as is, even now that he’s been honest.

A moment lapses, and he feels Endou shift beside him. He gently kisses Aphrodi on the cheek before settling down again, wrapping the hand that’s not holding Aphrodi’s around the midfielder’s back.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, and Aphrodi is surprised once again. _Though at this point_ , he thinks to himself, _why does anything about Endou Mamoru surprise me at all?_

“What on earth are _you_ sorry for?” Aphrodi’s voice is more incredulous than he’s had planned for, and it’s Endou’s turn to be surprised at his confusion.

“That you had a bad dream, of course,” he replies matter-of-factly, and the response is so simple that Aphrodi can’t resist smiling. It’s not a _stupid_ answer – Endou himself isn’t stupid by any stretch. But he has this amazing way of seeing past everything superfluous and getting straight to the point, and Aphrodi decides then and there that it’s quite possibly what he loves most about Raimon’s captain.

 

When Aphrodi smiles (and it’s a real, soft smile, quite unlike the smirks he often bestows upon the world) Endou’s both confused and relieved. He isn’t sure which one he should act upon. At the distress the blond had shown, he’d begun to worry that maybe pressing for him to talk about the dream had been a bad move. But the way that Aphrodi turns to pull him into a hug, muttering a muffled “Thank you,” into the top of his head eases his heart a little.

He can easily guess what frightened Aphrodi about the dream – but what upsets him more is how scared he still is now, even after being up for at least thirty minutes at this point. Not of Endou; that much is clear by the way he leaned into his touch, the way he’s holding the goalkeeper to his chest. It seems to partially be fear of the idea that Endou would be upset about hearing of it. Of course he doesn’t feel upset about it; to him it’s just the ghosts of the past and of things he’s long since forgiven Aphrodi for. If anything, Aphrodi seems the most scared of himself, as if he loses focus for a brief second he’ll suddenly revert back to who he used to be.

Which (at least in Endou’s mind, and he can’t think of a reason it would be different for Aphrodi) is a ridiculous fear. He’s watched Aphrodi grow away from that person for years – and he’s _loved_ him for years. Although he knows that the blond would be fine with just letting him go back to sleep with things as is, Endou wants to be absolutely certain that he’s alright, no matter how hard it is for him to keep his eyes open at this ridiculous time in the morning.

“I’m not worried about that happening, y’know,” he says suddenly, prompting Aphrodi to look down. “I’ve never been worried about that. Not since that day you saved our skin against Diamond Dust.” _And even a bit before then_ , he thinks with a smile. As illogical as it had seemed at the time – ‘the time’ being when Aphrodi was trying to practically flatten him with a soccer ball and sheer power – Endou had always had an odd belief that the midfielder wasn’t completely awful that went beyond his regular faith in others. (He’s incredibly glad that his prediction rang true.)

At those words, Aphrodi looks down at him. He’s been holding Endou close to his chest for at least a few minutes now, and while it isn’t uncomfortable in the least, the brunet can’t help but find it a bit easier to breathe when Aphrodi loosens his grip and leans back to look at him better. Giving him a grin, Endou turns partially around and lays his head on his shoulder again. The small smile that appears on his face makes the goalkeeper feel as though he’s doing _something_ right, so he keeps it up, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek again. After a second’s pause, he moves over just enough to give him a small peck on the lips, prompting the smile to grow even larger still.

Suddenly though, the smile is gone, though Aphrodi doesn’t move or look away this time, it feels like the mood as flipped again, and Endou wonders if he’s done something wrong somehow.

“Sometimes I just…” Aphrodi trails off, as if unsure of whether he’s supposed to continue or not.

“Yeah?” Endou asks carefully, trying to be delicate with the situation – but he’s concerned, and sees no point in beating around the bush and letting things hang there.

“Sometimes I worry about what I’d be like if it weren’t for you,” Aphrodi says, and Endou feels his breath catch in his chest because those words were a _lot_ more than he expected, and he isn’t certain how he’s supposed to respond. Aphrodi keeps talking though, and he’s saved from having to speak right away.  “You saved me, you know. I could’ve let the loss with Raimon take me down but…There was something in the way you were, I guess. It made me keep going,” he says, and when Endou looks up at him there’s a faraway look in Aphrodi’s eyes that seems grateful and pained in equal measure.

Taking Aphrodi’s hand again, he kisses the knuckles lightly, then presses the blond’s palm against his cheek gently. “I guess…you’d still be Aphrodi, I think.” Endou’s almost surprised at his own answer, and worries that Aphrodi might take it the wrong way for a second. “I don’t think I’m the only reason you’re…you. Afuro Terumi. Give yourself some credit too!” And he means it – he’d had faith in Aphrodi when he helped them fight Gazel, even if much of the team at the time had been against it; and he has this distinct feeling that even if their paths didn’t cross in the way they had, Aphrodi still would’ve come out of everything okay. Perhaps not the same – but Endou knows him enough to know with complete confidence that he wouldn’t have let those decisions trap him forever. That’s just not how the midfielder is.

Although he’s still worried, he can tell by way that Aphrodi moves his hand along his cheek gently, mimicking what he’d done twice earlier, that it must have helped in _some_ way.

“You’re an idiot, you know,” the midfielder says, but it’s clear he doesn’t completely mean it, which makes Endou smile a bit – if he’s teasing then he’s definitely feeling better. “For all you know I could’ve stayed the way I was if you hadn’t been there. What do you think would’ve happened if you hadn’t believed me about seriously wanting to fight with you guys?”

Endou shrugs a bit, giving him a sleepy grin. “I would’ve believed you.” Aphrodi opens his mouth again to protest, but Endou beats him to the chase, planting a kiss there before he even gets a word out. His boyfriend doesn’t even try to fight it – on the contrary, Endou smiles even more when he feels Aphrodi’s arms wrap around his neck and pull closer.

When they move apart, Aphrodi is red-faced and a bit huffy – but all his worry seems to have evaporated, and that, combined with how cute he looks like that, prompts Endou to kiss him once more.

This time, Aphrodi can’t help but roll his eyes. “Just my luck that I’d end up falling in love with an idiot like you,” he says in mock-exasperation, and Endou can’t help but laugh at that. Aphrodi lightly punches him on the shoulder to get him to shut up, and it hurts a bit – but that’s fine by Endou.

Because a few seconds later, after he’s turned off the lamp and pulled the blankets back up over them, Aphrodi moves closer to him again. And as he brushes Endou’s bangs away and kisses him on the forehead, Endou is absolutely certain in Aphrodi, in who he is and how he treats Endou and others. For all Aphrodi talks of Endou saving him, Raimon’s captain owes him just as much, if not more, for a million things - some explainable, some not, but all of them incredible.

And for that, Endou will always be there to help keep nightmares away.

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the bastille song "weight of living, pt. 1"


End file.
